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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224275">For Mercy Has a Human Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuldraK/pseuds/HuldraK'>HuldraK</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Devil May Cry</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Dysfunctional Family, Family, Gen, Hope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 04:48:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,420</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24224275</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuldraK/pseuds/HuldraK</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of shorts, part of the series Songs of Innocence and Experience, exploring Vergil's endeavours to reconcile with his brother and son, as well as his own humanity. [Warnings will be added as necessary]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>What happens when my depression hits while eating strawberry victoria sponge cake.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Everything was just noise, the sweet taste of strawberry and cream muted, his skin felt cold amidst the warm atmosphere his son called home. As always, Nero and Nico bickered, fighting over a piece of cake despite plenty still left on the plate. Kyrie sat by, laughing, happy, slicing away at her own masterpiece bit by bit. Dante had already devoured his, strawberry stems littered all over the plate, beer halfway down the glass. The children were tucked away in their beds as the night descended, but they all knew that the rascals were up to no good. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> How long had he been here? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Deep breaths, concentrate, steady now. Every part of him wanted to get up and leave, to run away, to get as far away as possible, to find solitude, find safety. Dante was smiling, laughing, but Vergil felt his brother’s eyes fixed upon him. He could hide <em> this </em> from everyone, but not Dante, and he hated it, <em> despised </em>it, yet, it was… comforting, somehow. </p><p> </p><p>As children, Dante always knew when he was unhappy or hurt, always knew when he was having nightmares, always knew he needed cake. All that seemed such a long long long time ago now, just a distant memory, lost forever. </p><p> </p><p>Vergil ignored his brother’s gaze, choosing to pick at the cake, eyes stared blankly into space, deliberately taking his time to consume it as an excuse to maintain his silence. Trembling hands were much harder to hide, clutching the spoon tight, fist on the table sheltering it close to his chest. </p><p> </p><p>‘How’s the cake? Is it alright?’ </p><p> </p><p>It was Kyrie, smiling, head leaned slightly to one side, shining like the morning star. If there was any consolation, his flesh and blood had done well, and made significantly better choices than he ever did. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> There was no need for him to be here. Better that he was never here. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>‘It is delicious, thank you,’ he replied, voice forcefully even yet gentle, keeping up his aloof appearances.</p><p> </p><p>‘W-Would you like some more?’ She stuttered a little out of pure delight, reaching to cut some more, but he reached out a hand to stop her, bringing it back as quickly. </p><p> </p><p>But Dante noticed. <em> Of course, he did </em>. </p><p> </p><p>‘I would like to finish my portion first, if you don’t mind,’ he said, flashing her a smile that did not reach his eyes.</p><p> </p><p>‘Oh, of course. Would you like another drink, at least?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Just some water, please, thank you.’</p><p> </p><p>So kind was she that Vergil never quite worked out how to act in her presence, no matter how much the cogs and wheels of his brain turned, it was a problem he could not solve, not by logic alone. He could deal with Dante’s persistent jokes, Nero’s good-natured attempts, but not Kyrie’s kindness. It was foreign, alien, <em> wrong </em>.</p><p> </p><p>‘Come on, brother! Have a drink! Join the party!’ Dante scooted over, lazily wrapped an arm around Vergil’s shoulder, and took a sip of his beer. Vergil almost jumped out of his skin and rained spectral swords unto his brother, only managing restraint by a hair’s breadth. </p><p> </p><p>‘Get off me, Dante,’ Vergil growled, swatting his brother’s hand away from his shoulder. </p><p> </p><p>‘You two don’t get too cozy, we don’t wanna have to fix the furniture or nothin’. Well, he doesn’t. I ain’t touching them,’ Nico nodded at Nero, also taking a swig of her own beer. </p><p> </p><p>‘Come on, Nico! After all the meals Kyrie fed you and money I gave you, you won’t even lift a finger?’ Nero protested.</p><p> </p><p>‘Hey! Those are business transactions, plus my genius, and plus interest. If anything, you owe me.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Owe you my ass. Remember the harpy feathers I got you? Huh? I think those are worth a few Devil Breaker on the house.’</p><p> </p><p>‘Keep dreaming, jackass,’ Nico reached for more cake, cutting a giant slice for herself.</p><p> </p><p>‘Wait a minute. Don’t take all the cake! Leave it for other people, too!’</p><p> </p><p>‘Well, y’all ain’t eating it!’</p><p> </p><p>‘Excuse me for a moment,’ all watched Vergil lift Dante’s arm, ducked under it, then made his way quietly towards the veranda.</p><p> </p><p>Nico shrugged, returning to the last drop of her beer and her cake, and Kyrie was worried, of course, as she always did. Poor Nero, finally realising his father’s distress, helplessly looked towards his uncle. Things had been better, but Nero could not yet fathom what storm brewed within his father nor how to quell it. Hell, he still called Vergil by name, and that would probably never change. </p><p> </p><p>‘Is he okay?’ Stupid question, Nero knew, but what else could he say?</p><p> </p><p>Dante sighed, knowing the answer to that question all too well, ‘I’ll go check on him.’</p><p> </p><p>‘That a good idea?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Shut up, Nico,’ Nero’s tone was sharper than he meant it to be. She just raised her hands, <em>whatever</em>, and returned to her cake.</p><p> </p><p>Dante did not waste time hanging around, got up, and followed his brother out. There Vergil was, leaning against a pillar supporting the ramshackled roof. The view was not much, just a disheveled garden, just tidy enough so the kids could have somewhere to play. They were inside now, huddled in their room, giggling and playing, always afraid around him. For now, it was enough to rest his weary soul and breathe some fresh air. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He could leave, right now, and none would be the wiser. No one would notice.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> He did not belong here. He did not deserve this… nor them.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>‘Nice view, huh? In between the garbage and all that,’ Dante sauntered to join his brother, standing side by side.</p><p> </p><p>Well, maybe <em> one </em> person would notice. </p><p> </p><p>Vergil sighed, ‘I’m fine. Just needed some air.’ </p><p> </p><p>‘Sure. I mean Nico will drive anyone crazy, but Nero is really trying, you know,’ what was left unsaid was clear enough.</p><p> </p><p>‘I <em> am </em>… I am trying,’ his voice was weak, far from convincing, especially to himself. </p><p> </p><p>‘Keep telling that to yourself.’</p><p> </p><p>‘If you do not have anything constructive to say, then leave,’ Vergil snapped.</p><p> </p><p>Both took a deep breath, both held their tongue, fighting against every molecule to keep the peace. At least <em> that </em>, they both had managed to curb, even if it was only in public, with limited threshold. Little did they know, Nero was watching them as he dried the dishes. He wanted to follow them out there, worried, still on edge from having to get between their violent outbursts far too many times. Not here, of course, even they had the sense not to make a scene here. It did not make things any easier for him, of course. </p><p> </p><p>‘He just needs time, Nero. He’s only been back a few months,’ Kyrie consoled him, washing up the last of the plates and wiping down the kitchen counter. </p><p> </p><p>‘Do you think he will ever-? ... Nevermind.’</p><p> </p><p>She placed a hand on his arm, comforting him with a smile, ‘he is fond of you, that much I can tell.’</p><p> </p><p>‘You think so?’</p><p> </p><p>‘Yes, I do.’</p><p> </p><p>Nero smiled, a little, a little more determined as he turned his attention back to his father and his uncle.</p><p> </p><p>The brothers were still brooding in silence, words lingered on the tip of their tongues, refusing to be the first to break it, yet too stubborn to simply walk away. As always, they chose silence, if not that then pointless argument. Whenever those words finally slipped out, swords would clash, and on a bad day, blood would spill. All of it nonsense, a waste of time, going round and round in circles, frustrating and pointless. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Everything is so fucking pointless. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>‘Well, if you’re going to sulk out here all night, be my guest. I’m gonna go see if there is any cake left,’ Dante slapped a hand on Vergil’s shoulder, making him jump yet again, returning inside in a huff. </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Idiot.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>For a moment, Vergil let his head hang low and closed his eyes, shutting the world out. He thought of music, the concerto he listened to again and again, the rise and fall of the arpeggio so easily mistaken for a cadenza, fingers on his left hand moved with each note. Music had been a balm, helping him through nightmares, something he could focus on to quell the darkness within him. </p><p> </p><p>‘Hey, um, Kyrie made you tea.’</p><p> </p><p>Surprisingly, Vergil was not alerted by Nero’s presence, standing there with a cup of tea in his hand, smile strained but genuine. He accepted, whispered his gratitude, catching a whiff of earl grey from the cup. </p><p> </p><p>‘You can stay the night, if you like. We have enough beds for both you and Dante,’ Nero asked, hopeful, only to receive a rueful smile in return.</p><p> </p><p>‘I’d… I won’t intrude on you any further. I’ll return by train.’</p><p> </p><p>‘You’ll stay next time?’</p><p> </p><p>A pause, some thoughts, the boy was persistent, somehow that brought a faint smile to Vergil’s face, ‘perhaps.’</p><p> </p><p>Nero grinned.</p><p> </p><p>‘I’m holding you to that.’</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>It was meant to be so much shorter, now I feel like I've missed out on so much character dept and meaningful dialogue *sighs* But at least Vergil got some cake.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Fragments</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The warmth had left the water long ago, the piercing cold was all that was left, washing away the blood and gore from his skin. It was almost a chore to breath, to remember, forcing air into his lungs, shaken, eyes shut tight, teeth grounded. That </span>
  <em>
    <span>feeling</span>
  </em>
  <span>, coursing through his body, like fire yet it left him frigid, ice in his veins, his chest worst of all. He wanted, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed, </span>
  </em>
  <span>to claw it out, rip it out, tear at his body until he was rid of it, but he stifled the urge, subduing it with sheer will alone. How long would that last, he wondered, how much of that will did he really have left?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You shouldn’t have returned here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You should have stayed in hell, where you belonged.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Screams, cries, their blood coursed through his veins, the anguish of every soul and their ghost that lingered in this city. All the power he ever wanted, and yet, every fibre of his being spurned it, every step in that city boiled his blood so cold he was all but numb. This was not how it should be. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Weakness. You must cut it out, bury it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>No. That’s not what he wanted. Flashes of red, armour, voice muzzled, tendrils wrapped around his spine, twisting it. Gunshot, over and over again, neverending, killing him, saving him. The nightmare never ended, not for him, some days were just better than others.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Perhaps he was the nightmare, one that was soon to end.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Little did Vergil know that Dante had returned, frantic after persistent searching all over town for his brother. What the hell was he playing at? For fuck’s sake, the day had been bad enough for Dante without this bullshit. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The outrage dissipated when he spotted the dark blue coat crumpled on the floor just by the stairs, crusted with blood. There was more, he could see articles of clothing, a trail of them, leading upstairs. Now that Dante was no longer clouded by his temper, he knew that Vergil was here, he sensed him, upstairs. He rushed up to find the bathroom door ajar, hearing sounds of laboured breaths and gentle splash. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water was red, dark, full of blood, like a scene out of a horror film. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All the time he was searching, Dante had come up with things he wanted to say, anger giving way to desperation as time passed, but now he was lost for words, the armour of bravado absent. Relief quickly gave way to concern, poring frantically through the day’s event to recall anything that may have caused Vergil injury, and as quickly realising that it was futile and just an escape. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The answer was obvious, he had seen it since the day they returned from hell but chose to ignore. Vergil was so good at hiding things, even as a child, making all the excuses in the world to turn people away when he was hurting. That had never changed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘How long have you been back?’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vergil opened his eyes, sight blurry for a moment, throat parched. <em>How long had he been here?</em></span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘I’m not sure.’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Where the hell have you been?’ Dante yelled. The anger came back, like bile in his throat, burning through him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cold worsened now, heart thumping loud in Vergil’s ears, every part of him screamed escape, run, </span>
  <em>
    <span>get out of here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He couldn’t deal with this now. He shouldn’t have returned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘What does it matter?’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘It does matter, asshole! What the hell do you think you were playing at!?’ </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Of course, Dante would be angry, it was to be expected after all. There were plenty of sufficient reasons for him to be so. Vergil attempted to move, to sit up, but something hindered him. What was it? Pain? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ridiculous</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘What? Did you get hurt?’ Dante’s tone softened, but the anger still simmered beneath the concern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘I’m fine,’ Vergil brushed his brother off, avoiding eye contact, blankly staring at his own reflection in the water. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Red</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘You always say that.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘I meant it.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Well, it’s a fucking lie!’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Leave me be, Dante,’ Vergil snarled, voice hoarse, patience running thin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘That really what you want, brother?’ </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why couldn’t he just say it? Why couldn’t his brother just tell him? He was here now, right? </span>
  </em>
  <span>‘Look at me and say it to my face, Vergil.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Words failed Vergil when their eyes met. It left him exposed, vulnerable, and that he could not be, not in front of his brother, </span>
  <em>
    <span>especially </span>
  </em>
  <span>not in front of his brother. But it was too late now, he could see Dante’s expression changed, no longer did his face twist in resentment or eyes glowered with frustration. How could he when his reflection faltered so? It was only for a brief moment, where they were both children again, a crack, a light shining through faded away in an instant.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>For Mercy has a human heart,</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Pity a human face -</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Dante, I-’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘You should get out of there. It’s pretty nasty from all the demon gut. Man, I’m going to have to clean that up, thanks to you,’ Dante grabbed a towel and helped his brother out of the bath, half expecting to be pushed away, half surprised that he wasn’t. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Vergil scoffed, ‘you? Clean?’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘You’re the one throwing clothes all over the place, and you call me messy.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gently, Vergil withdrew and wrapped the towel around himself, parts stained pink by blood, ‘I can handle myself from here.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Fine. Whatever. This is why we shouldn’t have white towels, anyways. So that’s on you.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Dante.’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘What?’</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And Love, the human form divine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>‘Thank you.’</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A very sleepy drabble. I'm really bad at confrontations so that was quite a challenge. Getting these boys to talk is also like pulling teeth. Almost literally.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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